


The Metal Miscalculation (The Rewrite)

by TT40_Angst_Queen



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Actor Harry, Adopted Harry Potter, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutant Harry, Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Harry, Protective Steve Rogers, Soldier Harry, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT40_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT40_Angst_Queen
Summary: Since he ran away from the Orphanage when he was six years old, Hadrian James Potter had been homeless. His time at the orphanage was not pleasant, and gave him a intense hatred for bullies of all kinds. He struggled to survive for ten years on the streets, his powers, a thing of unknown origin which both frightens and intrigues him, helping him along the way. On his tenth winter, Hadrian is struggling to find a place to sleep, afraid that he won't survive the night. A chance meeting that night lights up his hatred for bullies, and starts him on an journey of discovery, laughter, and loss. Through the decades, Hadrian searches for answers, for hints at who he was. who was his family? Was anyone searching for him? Will Hadrian find Love? Friendship? or even something smaller but much more precious....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of my Original story. i scrapped the first version and made this, and i find i like it more then my first attempt.

Hadrian Potter was an orphan. A boy with no special talents that would never succeed in life and would never go on to do anything great. A person not worthy to lick the shoes of the people of the orphanage. 

Or at least, that is what they told him, from the second he arrived there when he was a baby till the minute he ran away at age six. The year was currently 1934, in Brooklyn, America, and Hadrian Potter was looking for a warm place to sleep, winter was getting unbearably colder, and he was afraid that at sixteen years of age, he would freeze to death, with no one around to care, other than the coroner that would most likely just shake his head sadly when he examined his cause of death. He would just be another one of the poor homeless chaps that died in the cold, with not enough coin to pay for food or shelter to keep him from kicking the bucket. He would normally use his powers to collect coin, but with Christmas being around the corner, it felt…... wrong, to ruin someone else’ Christmas because he wanted some warmth. 

Ah, yes. His strange power over metal, and its uses. He could control metal, and use is a verity of ways, such as summoning coins from unsuspecting passerby, or bending any metal to his will. If what he heard about iron in the blood was true, he could most likely kill someone by ripping it out of them, not that he would ever try that. He didn’t approve of using his powers for evil, or to bully people. He hated bullies, due to the fact of his constant bullying at the orphanage. He had only recently discovered his powers a mere three years ago, but since then he honed them as much as possible. It came in handy the few times someone had tried to rob him with a gun or a knife, or even do more…. Unsavory things to him. That one man was the exception to his no kill rule. Those type of people don’t stop with just one. 

Hadrian was short for his age of sixteen, standing at five foot four, and had wavy black hair that he styled with a cheap gel he found at the penny shop. It curled near the ends, giving him room to leave a curly fringe to cover his distinctive lightning bolt shaped scar that marred his forehead. He had large, bright, almond-shaped green eyes, that had a dark blue ring around his black pupil that faded into the green, covered by a pair of rectangular glasses, and pale, porcelain skin, long, thick, coal black lashes and red lips, his bottom lip thicker then the top. He knew he was beautiful, even those at the orphanage and that…. Man, commented on it. His hair, when in the right light, would have a blood red sheen to it, and his eyes gave him a haunting look, that made him look like he was staring into someone’s soul. His clothes consisted of a pair of ratty leather shoes that he got from a shelter, a thin, woolen shirt that had seen better days, with multiple patches, a pair of thin cotton trousers, a cabbie hat, and his prized possession, a long, expensive looking coat (in reality, it was apparently, ‘out of season’ one summer in a posh department store in New York, and he paid the lady five pounds that he swiped that very day for it. He must have looked pitiful enough for her to agree) that was woollen, black, with a dark blue silk interior, multiple buttons in black from just below the wait up, and a red button hole on the lapel, and a length of fabric he used to tie it more securely around him. All together it gave him a middle class look that was easy for people to pass him with only a passing glance. 

The very fact that he was homeless, without a proper education, closed off many areas of work for him, as he discovered growing up on the streets. Though he didn’t look like the typical homeless street-rat, his lack of graduate certification and his faint, still fading British accent left over from growing up in an orphanage that catered too European (Though the Matron of the orphanage refused any outside of Britain, stating that she was full when others were suggested. He remembered a young red headed toddler from Russia that was refused entrance, Natalia Romanova or something….”) children specifically.

He was disappointed many times during his life, not really liking pickpocketing people to buy food and clothes. Finding even a low paying job, even ten cents a day, would be better then this. Though he did have his birth and citizenship papers, proving he wasn’t an illegal alien, so that was a weight off his shoulders. Though getting them while escaping the orphanage when he was just a boy was no small feat. But, even at that age he understood the importance of keeping his papers on his person if he were to run. He saw many off the children he grew up with leave, and their papers always went with them. 

Yes, Hadrian Potter, A sixteen years old, was Homeless, shivering, and struggling to find a place to be warm in this cursed winter. 

Hadrian was just about to give up, and go to a shelter, where he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed in anyways, due to his looks and coat, when he heard a shuffling noise, and a whimper, along with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the snap of bone. Not expecting to hear a fight in this weather, he hesitated before reacting. He didn’t want to get hurt if they had a gun or a- he snorted. The cold must be getting to him, forgetting him having such a powerful ability that he had would be impossible otherwise. 

Rushing quietly into the alley, he saw something that made him scowl. 

Two teen boys, one shaggy-haired brunette with a face only a mother could love, and another with a head of light brown curls that looked distinctly like a rat had mated with a whale, both with malicious grins on their faces, and one holding a knife, the other had a gun in his waistband.

They were beating on a teenaged boy that was Hadrian’s size, if an inch taller, and just as skinny, if not more so, he had blond hair that was most likely carefully combed at one point, but right now, it was a mess. He had large, almond-shaped sea-blue eyes, the blue you saw on the posters in travel shops advertising tropical vacations, and thick lashes. He was fair skinned, not as pale as Hadrian, and full lips. He looked like he could be Hadrian’s older, blond brother. That wasn’t counting what was clearly a broken nose, dripping blood, that, unbroken, would be roman.  
Maybe it was the similarities that caused Hadrian to feel a sudden burst of protective rage, or maybe it was the fact that he hated bullies, but to Hadrian, it didn’t matter what it was, nobody deserved what these to prats were doing to the blond.

“Down on the ground where ya’ belong Rogers. Skinny little shrimps like you never even belong around here, you fu-” Hadrian interrupted the rat-faced boy before he could speak any further. 

“Why don’t you go an’ pick on someone your own size, you overgrown rat.” Hadrian spoke in a growl loud enough to be heard over the rats’ nasal voice. The bullies turned around, clearly shocked to have someone interrupt their ‘fun’, and shouted.

“Why should we listed to another shrimp like you, ya’ skinny little freak?” Hadrian sneered, he hated that word. A title he was constantly called as a child, with his looks being ‘unnatural’, as the Matron called them. 

“Because bullying isn’t an attractive trait, and if you two doorknobs get any uglier, you wont be able to look in a mirror without breaking it. Though right now you most likely leave some impressive cracks.” 

The bullies growled, “Why little shit! You’ll regret that!” They both brandished their weapons, and made to attack him with them, but with a wave of his hand they were but twisted metal with no use at all. 

The two boys looked at him in terror, then ran, shouting about Demons the whole ways down the silent and empty street. 

Hadrian scoffed, cowards, that was what almost every bully was behind their tough façade. Not that he expected any less from these ones. They were all the same, and he never found a bully that wouldn’t run when he was confronted with someone stronger. He himself was stronger then them, but he never actually hurt them, unless it was to restrain them. He would never become like them, never.

“Um, excuse me-” The voice behind him startled him out of his thoughts, surprisingly deep for the speakers age and stature. Hadrian turned around, a smile on his lips, his eyes turning soft.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head, and winced. The boy, Rogers, had seen his powers. He nervous about the blonde’s reaction to his, admittedly frightening, gift. 

“What, what was that? How did you, I mean, uh…” Rogers trailed off, blushing red from his chest to the tips of his ears. 

“What the punk means to say, is thank you,” The voice came from behind Hadrian, and he gasped, whirling around, Rogers gasp of ‘Bucky’ registered dimly in his mind. 

The young man, he seemed about seventeen or eighteen, was standing at the beginning of the alley, his brown locks of hair dishevelled, and his lightly tanned skin streaked with grease, along with his worker’s clothes, and his Silver-blue eyes laughing, a smile on his lips, lifting his dimpled chin. He had long lashes, and his height, was about six foot. His form was muscled as well.

“W-who are you?” Hadrian stuttered; he was rarely caught off guard, and this ‘Bucky’ being able to do so was unnerving. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, though my friends call me Bucky. I’m the best friend of the blond punk behind you.” James laughed, shaking his head. “He is always getting into fights. Thank you for helping him out, by the way,” James looked at him grimly. “I’m pretty sure I would have one less friend right now if I wasn’t for you. You saved his life.” 

Rogers grumbled, and muttered dejectedly; “I had ‘em on the ropes Buck’…” 

James glared at Rogers, but his eyes were soft. 

“Ya’ say that every time punk, and the outcome never changes. One day, your gonna get inta’ trouble, and you wont be able to get out, and me or you little savior here wont be able to get to you.” 

Hadrian smiled sadly at the two friends. He wished he had someone like James growing up. Maybe things would have been different. James suddenly turned to face Hadrian, a large smile on his face.

“I want to thank you for what you did for Stevie here, not many people would stop and help him. Is there anything we could do for you?” James grimaced suddenly. “within reason, of course, we don’t have much money…” It took a few moments for Hadrian to reply, not expecting to be offered anything for doing the right thing. 

“Uhhh…” He said stupidly. James looked around, noticing it was late in the evening, judging at the surprised look he shot at his watch. 

“Well, it getting pretty late, why don’t you come over for dinner and a rest up for the night? You’d have the couch of course, sorry.”  
Well. It wasn’t every day he got an offer like this. Still….

“I wouldn’t want to intrude… I was planning to go to St. Jude’s shelter for the night….” He almost slapped himself. Great now they knew he was homeless, they would never- 

“You’re homeless? In this weather?” Steve’s voice piped up, and with a frown on his face, he gave James a hard look, before opening his mouth and once again shocking Hadrian.

“No way, you’re coming home with us tonight. And every other night, if I have any say in things.”

James grinned wryly, rolling his eyes. “Steve, of course, always gets a say. I never usually get one. Though I agree with him. It’s the least we could do. And the right thing.”

Hadrian could only try to pick his poor jaw of the filthy alley way ground.


	2. Before The Blast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a short filler, power is gonna go out soon, not sure when it will be back, and i still have to re-watch the first CA movie, and analyse it.

Seven years had passed since that day, and the year was now 1941, and they were in the middle of a war.

Hadrian had grown from a sixteen-year-old homeless boy, to a 23-year-old heartbreaker, and the adopted brother of Bucky, once his mother got a hold of him. 

When he first arrived, Hadrian was saddened to see that, despite having four walls and a roof, Bucky and Steve live nor much better then someone homeless themselves. The heating was horrible, and the damp had seeped into the walls and created mold, causing the air to be almost deadly to Steve during the damper seasons, winter being the worst. Hadrian spent days thinking on what he could do to help the two men, and after seeing an advert in the paper about extras needed for a movie, Hadrian decided to try and see if it was something he could do. His worries were for nothing, and he got the part, being given fifty dollars for the two weeks he spent doing the job. It wasn’t the most glamorous, as he was playing the part of one of the coal miners, and he got soot everywhere. But the look on Bucky and Steve’s faces when he brought home the fifty dollars was worth every second. Steve had even cried a little, and he could have sworn Bucky was holding back tears. 

He had left his information with the producer and director of the movie, and he had taken ten dollars of the fifty and got himself an acting agent. Bucky was unsure about spending so much on an agent, but agreed that the chance of bringing home even more money was something that would be even better, and ten dollars was worth it. With a week, they got knock on the door, and his agent telling him that he was wanted as a minor character in a romance film. After a week of shooting the film, his character was killed off, but he had brought home a nice grab of one hundred and fifty dollars. They had splurged that week, and had a great meal, and bought themselves some nicer clothes, and a working heater, and a phone. After that, he was called for more opportunities, and though he didn’t get anything outrageous, he made enough money that they were able to move out and into a better, and warmer apartment, with working heating, sealed windows, and three bedrooms. They could even afford to buy Steve better medicine. He wasn’t cured, but Steve was a damn sight better than he was before he started bring home dough, but during a war, that didn’t really matter. The doctors still didn’t care, he was still too weak to join the army, much to Steve’s displeasure. 

Steve wanted so desperately to fight for his country, and was of the mind that he had no right to do any less then the boys fighting out there did. Bucky appreciated everything that the soldiers did, and respected them. But Bucky, well. He had no dreams to go and join them. None at all.

Hadrian…. Well. Just two weeks ago, he got a letter, telling him that he was joining the army, was to set out in a week, and he was going in the 107th squadron. Sargent Hadrian James Barnes.

The war had been on for a year, and already he was conscripted. There were tears from Steve, Hugs and repressed (not very well) tears from Bucky, and a lot of yelling their frustration out. 

War…... was not pretty. It was not glorious. 

There was no honor in shooting down people, half of which who most likely had no idea what they were fighting for, or didn’t want to fight at all. There was no honor in watching the life fade from both enemy and friends, to watch their eyes glaze over in death. To watch the tears, fill the eyes of young men, young enough to still be boys, as they realized that they were about to die, or they would be going home with one or more limbs less then they left with.

War was dirty, bloody, brutal, violent and horrible. It was terrifying, staring into they eye of someone and realizing that it was kill or be killed, and one wrong move, one fraction of a second wasted, could mean that you were not going to survive to see your loved ones again.

Two years and a captaincy later, Hadrian saw Bucky again. Only this time, as his Sargent.

And this is where it all went to hell.


	3. A Talk With Chester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting a summons from Colonel Phillips was always something that made the younger recruits nervous. But Hadrian, after being in the Army for two years and becoming Captain Barnes, James Hadrian, had him getting to know Chester quite well. The man could be quite a grump, but it didn’t stop Hadrian from using his easygoing, teasing, sarcastic personality. Phillips would jut roll his eyes at him, when he was in a good mood, and a sharp glare on bad days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the power didn't go out, and my writers block seems to be hiding for now, but I can feel it creeping back, and my bouts of writers block tend to last awhile, as any person that knows my writing can tell. but I am trying my best to keep all of you guys happy. hope this isn't a disappointment, but its more of a filler, as well as a explanation of any relationship between Phillips and Hadrian. I hope you will review to tell me what you think. its kind of disappointing the amount of reviews I've gotten so far, considering how many people bugged me for four years straight to continue this. It is sort of strange. I sort of thought that more people would tell me what they think of the COMPLETELY different direction I am taking with this. I haven't ever re-written something before, i usually tend to leave it up and not continue, or just abandon and delete it. i actually have a paper copy of the original Metal Miscalculation that i really dont have the energy to type back up again, if anybody wants it. maybe not.. considering i would have to send it by mail. not something most would be willing to give permission for. if you want me to, then just ask. first to ask will get it sent. eventually, sorry. I just moved and am not sure where the post office is, and I don't drive (at nineteen, that's pretty sad. but then again, I'm terrified of driving a car) so it will most likely take awhile to send it. but it will get there, no matter how long it takes.

Getting a summons from Colonel Phillips was always something that made the younger recruits nervous. But Hadrian, after being in the Army for two years and becoming Captain Barnes, James Hadrian, had him getting to know Chester quite well. The man could be quite a grump, but it didn’t stop Hadrian from using his easygoing, teasing, sarcastic personality. Phillips would jut roll his eyes at him, when he was in a good mood, and a sharp glare on bad days. 

“Mor’nin Chester.” The grimace that Chester gave wasn’t normal, and it made Hadrian immediately stand to attention. 

“Sir?” Hadrian saluted.

“At ease Captain Barnes.” The man avoided Hadrian’s gaze. “I asked you here to tell you some… news, that might… shock you.” Hadrian’s Heart raced. Had Something happened to his brother? To Steve? 

“Sir?” Hadrian’s voice came out rough.

“Your Brother, James Buchanan Barnes. He’s been drafted. Into your unit, as a Sargent. You’re Going to train him, as He is the only one new coming into the unit. We need a sniper, train him as such. I expect him to be able to shoot a peanut at thirty-five yards in a blizzard once you’re done with him.” Hadrian nodded. 

Outwardly Hadrian was calm, inwardly, he was freaking out. Bucky wasn’t supposed to join the army, drafted or not. Bucky didn’t want to be a soldier, he didn’t want to see the horrors that took the lives of men and boys. Bucky Didn’t deserve this. Well, nobody did, but he didn’t want his brother to have to deal with this. Not to mention, the thought of training Bucky to be a sniper, someone who killed from the shadows, from afar, made nausea curl its way up his throat. His brother, though older then him, and not unaware of the horrors of the world, was innocent of actual experience of the horrors of war and evil men. 

Hadrian had hoped that Bucky would never experience the war, had hoped since they had one brother, they would leave the other alone. He had hoped…. But then, hope is something fleeting and rare during this war, and he should have expected something like this would happen. 

“Thank you sir.” Hadrian whispered, looking down at his boots. He was holding back tears, and the Colonel knew it. 

“Listen, Barnes, I won’t pretend to promise that you and your brother will make it out of this war alive and unscarred, but I can promise you that you will be better off facing this war together. I’ve heard all your yammerin’ about the shit you boys got into, protectin’ that Steve friend of yours, and it seems, from gatherin’ all that, that you boys work better together. There isn’t two men I would trust to be together then you two.” Phillips eyes bored into his, carrying the feeling that he was completely truthful.

“I may have not met the boy yet, but from what I heard, and knowing you, I can comfortably say that I will trust him with the lives of you, your men, and even myself.” Hadrian sucked in a sharp breath. Words like that coming from the Colonel was something treasured, and he knew that Phillips meant every word.

Phillips sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Look, Hadrian. I am going to be honest with you. When you first arrived for training two years ago, you irritated the crap outta’ me. You got under my skin like a painful splinter. But you took everything seriously, and you worked hard, and worked your way through the ranks. you grew on me, on all of us. You saved that boy in the middle of a firefight, even got shot for your troubles. When you came back on that stretcher, barely alive, I could have sworn you were gonna die. But when you had a complete recovery over night, I didn’t even question it, no matter how…. Strange it was. I’m not gonna ask what that was about, because I’ve seen it twice before, and your… magnetic personality… for no better word, is something known but un-talked about around here… and lets not forget about you lifting that tank tire off Sargent Jones...” 

Hadrian winced. He had hoped his subtle use of his powers in saving his comrades went unnoticed, as well as his late night practice sessions. Not to mention his latest manifestation of his powers, his healing, and his extra strength. The only thing he was thankful that it hadn’t gotten him kicked out, or even sent to a lab.

“What I am trying to say here, is that you are like a son to me, and if your brother is anything like you…. Powers or not… I have a feeling that he will grow on me as well. We protect our own here Hadrian. And I can promise you that myself and the rest of this camp will protect you and your brother however we can, without lookin’ like a bunch of girls. We will try to get you and your brother outta’ this war alive and safe. That, I will promise you.” 

Hadrian didn’t know what to say, and he just looked at the Colonel, tears in his eyes. 

“Chester, I… Thank you… so much. Bucky, he didn’t want to join the army… I mean, he respected those that did but… he didn’t want to die, or lose a limb, he didn’t want to know what was going on with first hand experience, and he…. He is my older brother, but sometimes… he feels like my younger brother. And I don’t want my brother to have to experience this… war.” 

Phillips nodded. “I know Hadrian. It wont be easy. But life isn’t easy. Not during a war, and not after. Its just more terrifying and scarring during a war, and you come out of it with memories you’d rather live without.” Shifting the folders on his desk, he looked at one of the pages, and sighed.

“Sir, when will-?” Hadrian asked, he knew that the older man would understand his unspoken words. It wasn’t that hard to guess.”

“He should be arriving within the hour. You will be waiting for him in the training field. I would usually start with the range, but since your brother will end up as a sniper, you need a larger and more open area. You said once that you both are good at climbing and agility? Balancing and jumping around?”

“Yes sir. Kind of like a women’s gymnastics…” Hadrian blushed. “I thought it would be useful in hand to hand combat. We thought it would be useful to protect Steve. We know how to fight without weapons, sir.” 

The older man raised an eyebrow, but nodded, seemingly satisfied. 

“I want you to work on that, as well as work on shooting from unusual places, trees, boulders, sides of the few buildings we have around her, roofs, moving vehicle’s, windows, a crowded area, using dummy’s of course, wind, rain, even work on shooting with blurry vision, without vision, at night, in the dark, blinding light. I want him trained like crazy. I want him to be the best sniper the world has ever seen.”

Reeling at the task that would be in front of him, Hadrian spent the next hour in a daze. 

He was in for quite the task.


	4. The Meeting, and the Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting for Bucky felt just as nerve-wracking as he would imagine waiting for the gallows, and though he was composed when Bucky arrived, an hour of thoughts on how this would go made him a bit jittery.
> 
> So he was excused from the nervous squeak he gave when his brother arrived in the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this, remember that this is supposed to be focused on Hadrian, so yes, I skipped. I am not changing it.

Waiting for Bucky felt just as nerve-wracking as he would imagine waiting for the gallows, and though he was composed when Bucky arrived, an hour of thoughts on how this would go made him a bit jittery.

So he was excused from the nervous squeak he gave when his brother arrived in the field. But thankfully he didn’t hear it, since he was paying more attention to the Colonel, who was talking low, but not low enough for his new enhanced senses.

“-And you will be training as a sniper, Sargent Barnes, and the Captain will be trainin’ you hard, and I expect you to listen to your superior officer, and live up to the stories I’ve heard about you.”

He could see Bucky’s confused face from his place sitting on the rough, wooden bench he was sitting on.

The breeze ruffled his hair, and he shivered a bit, less cold then exited about seeing his brother after two years, and trying not to laugh at the look on Bucky’s face.

“Stories…sir?” the ‘sir’ was added, Bucky clearly was not used to using the moniker with every sentence at another person that wasn’t the dock manager.

Hadrian decided to speak up, putting a faux Scottish accent. He used to do it when they would comment on his English accent.

“Aye, and ya’ betta’ live up ta’ i’ Sargent Barnes!” He could see the minute stiffening in Bucky’s shoulders, and the force he was clenching his fists with, due to his white knuckles.

 “…...Magnus?” Oh, well he forgot about that nickname. Two years of not hearing his power-based name had made him forget. Chester would make sure that name stuck, and he knew Bucky would spread it around too.

“Yeah Buck, It’s me.” The shock on Bucky’s face was priceless. He rarely was able to shock his older brother, and he was happy to add another tally to his, admittedly short score.

“Captain Hadrian James Barnes, Sargent.” Chester Phillips introduced, an entirely too cheerful grin on his face. “Or I guess, Captain Magnus. Has more of a ring to it, I think we will keep that one, tell the boys.”

Hadrian shot the older man an entirely unimpressed look, which he of course ignored.

“Captain Magnus,” Phillips ignored the look that Hadrian shot him. “I have told you what I expect from you, and from Sargent Barnes. I expect some progress by the end of the day, and amazing progress by the end of the week. I will see you boys later.”

Both Hadrian and Bucky, after a hard nudge, saluted the man as he left. Once he left the field, they relaxed. Bucky turned to him, a sardonic grin on his face.

“Captain, Huh?”

“Shut up, Sargent.”

 

* * *

 

  

The peace they had, as relative as it was, was the last peace they had.  The next year seemed like a dream, like he wasn’t quite there.

He had trained Bucky the best he could, and by the end of it, they both came out better for it, and ended up the best snipers and fighters in the army.

Well, until Steve decided to sign himself up to become a Supersoldier, and saved their asses from Hydra.

Then Bucky fell.

And Steve Sacrificed himself.

Leaving Hadrian alone.

  

* * *

 

After the War ended, Hadrian spent weeks not knowing what to do with himself, how to spend his time. How to go on without the two people that were with him for the best years of his life.

Hadrian, spent months alone in the small house he bought with a fraction of the nest egg that he- that they had saved. He spent months just sitting by the fireplace, honing his powers further and further, until he was sure he couldn’t hone them even more. He could do almost anything with metal, he could lift up to three thousand pounds, and he could heal from anything. Including, as he discovered in a moment of despair, from death.  He could smell just as well as any wolf, could see as well as a hawk, and hear better then an owl. He wondered, at times, if the Matron at the orphanage was right. If he was a freak, someone who got people killed.

He wondered if he could do something that would permanently kill him. he doubted it.

It was months before someone came to his door looking for Steve or Bucky; an old lady who couldn’t read or listen to radio due to he bad sight and hearing. So she didn’t know of Bucky’s and Steve’s demise. Or the pain that she caused to ripple through him.

Pain that radiated not only through him, but was strong enough to radiate through the mind of a certain British Telepath.

 

* * *

 

 

“Charles?”

“That poor boy… so much pain…”

“Will we help him?”

“It isn't our place. I have a feeling....”

“Charles? ”

“This boy will be destined for great things, Mein Friend... I believe... That he needs to work on this journey alone. ”

“Are you sure, Charles?”

"One can never be completely sure, but for this, I feel we must be sure in mind, if not in heart."

"Of course, Charles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review

**Author's Note:**

> please review, i would love your opinions. 
> 
> Flamers, don't talk, you lower the IQ of the whole fandom.


End file.
